


telios

by greine



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:53:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greine/pseuds/greine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sisters and the bits of wrong. Mature warning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	telios

I have a holo of you.

It's a bad angle and the shadows didn't come out right. Your face isn't fitted fully in the shot and your skirt hikes up enough to be immodest. You're six and smiling. You're at a school, a good one. I should know: I made sure you got in.

It's a useless and dangerous memento, one I shouldn't keep. I imagine the information broker that sold me this thought the same before I killed him. I hang onto it all the same. Not for the reasons information brokers do, scraping any snippet of data they can. It's because there's something about the way you smile, full of life, untainted.

I know fifteen different types of smiles. I still can't do one like yours in that holo.

He tells me to see you. He doesn't know what he's talking about; I've watched you for so, so very long now. And each time I see your face, through a holo or through the glimpses of a surveillance shot that I erase seconds after, I think of home and the pain and misery from there and I _keep watching_. I've been devoted to you long enough to know what it means to love through distance and time and space, through any emotion. I’ve been devoted long enough to know that I can't smile quite like you.

I had always thought what you felt towards me doesn’t matter. That what I felt towards you was enough. This is one of the few times I’m wrong. A wrong that, when I approach you for the first time and see how beautiful you are up close, fills my heart with something more than anything I’ve felt for you. A wrong that, when I tell you my name as I try that smile in the holo I'm passing off to you, shakes my voice.

* * *

I ask you for advice more and more. Our chats grow longer even though you have to save the world, and somewhere in the midst of that binary I realize how much you’ve truly done for me. I only know that I would do anything for you and maybe somehow we can fill those years we’ve missed.

* * *

I tell you that I don’t think I can be with him. You hear me.

I don’t think I’ve had that much to drink, but when I stumble into your flat you have to hold me up as you close the door behind me. You smell like you had only taken a shower a few minutes ago and I breathe deep, nestling my nose into curve of your neck. It perfumes of elderflowers and citrus.

I tell you that I’m sorry. You forgive me.

I decide to softly blow there and you don’t yelp and push me away, like I expect. Instead there’s a whimper: a deep, pulsing hum from deep in your throat that sounds like an ocean from another world. I was that sensitive, once. We can’t have you behave like this for your first.

I tell you it’s only a joke. You trust me.

I try to push myself off and away but your arms are tight around me, and something feels strange in the atmosphere now. Your body is warm, my breath is quickening, and it’s not the alcohol that clouds my judgment. I blearily look into your eyes and maybe I need this and it doesn’t matter who it is.

I tell you I want to see everything. You show me.

Something possesses me when everything is off. I cup your breasts and remember that mine used to feel like that. It’s a perfect, seductive weight against my fingers, curves smooth across my skin. You don’t fight it, even when I dip my head to suckle your nipples. My tongue darts eagerly across the gooseflesh of skin under your breasts and you taste like sweetened milk, young and smooth. You let out a moan and I can feel a damp heat between my legs, one I know I shouldn’t have. That reminds me of him, and somewhere my heart steels and I draw away.

I tell you this is going too far, what we’re doing. You silence me.

The kiss is eager and your tongue seeks out mine, licking my gums, sending throbbing shockwaves to my brain. We’re the same on every single level, so when you reach for my crotch I can’t fight it. You know what you’re doing and maybe that’s why you know that somewhere I want this.

I tell you that you’re perfect. You touch me.

I asked you to play the violin for me, once. I still remember how your fingers had fretted each string, how you shook with passion doing vibrato. It’s me that’s shaking now against your fingers, those long, graceful, things that play me with so much ease. I do the same for you and you’re more vocal than I am, only because you’re younger. Your moans are sweet and hot against my cheek.

I told you I would hate all your boys.

We’re together that night. Through it all, you don’t smile like you used to. Maybe I’ve broken us, but I’ve always wanted to find out what it means to be imperfect.

* * *

I watch you die in your ex-lover's arms and can only think that it should be me that holds you in your last breaths, as you whisper sweet lies for his ears and I edge towards the shattered glass knowing that there’s only one way for our love to stay.


End file.
